


Hallmark Memories

by Dean_hugs_Sammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Christmas Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:36:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dean_hugs_Sammy/pseuds/Dean_hugs_Sammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wants to know why Sam dislikes their childhood Christmases.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallmark Memories

**Author's Note:**

> For SSA's "Festive Season" challenge - this story got a 3rd place in the challenge.

The moon was shining big and bright - its light reflecting in the crystal-white snowflakes that were floating down from the star-covered sky and covering the black Chevy Impala from 1967 in a blanket of white, while the distant tunes of _Silent Night_ seeped through the thin walls of the motel room. And it was indeed a silent night for the Winchester brothers as they were situated in each their bed, lights turned off and conversation died away. But Dean couldn't fall asleep. He was lying on his back, hands folded behind his neck and he was watching the falling snow through the window while his mind wandered off.

It had been the first Christmas the brothers had spent together in a long time and they had done it the Winchester way; they'd spent it together in some beat-up motel room with take-out food, beers and a movie in TV. And that was the way Dean liked it; to be able to spend Christmas with his little brother - just the two of them together. The Winchesters had never had a normal Christmas – they'd never had a beautifully decorated tree with a bunch of nicely-wrapped presents underneath it. They'd never had roasted turkey for Christmas dinner, no fruity Christmas pudding with brandy sauce, no family visits and no home decorated with holly and mistletoe. There'd been no Christmas cards and a father dressed like Santa, no stockings by the fireplace or festive songs. Not after November 1983 at least.

Dean sighed and turned onto his side so that he was facing his little brother whose face also happened to be turned in Dean's direction. The older brother watched the peaceful rise and fall of Sam's chest while thinking about something the younger man had once said when Dean had talked about celebrating Christmas.

" _Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know_." Sam had said and when Dean had protested, Sam had added; " _Whose childhood are you talking about?_ "

And Dean had been surprised – no, Dean had been absolutely _flabbergasted_ to realize that Sam had disliked their Christmases so much. Sure, the younger brother had always been craving for a normal life, but to Dean the most special and important part about Christmas had always been the fact that they'd been together.. so why hadn't that been enough for Sam as well?

Dean had wanted his last Christmas before going to hell to be one to remember, but Sam hadn't been up for it. Somehow along the way though, the younger brother had changed his mind and had ended up giving Dean the best Christmas ever. Dean had always wondered what had been the reason to Sam's sudden change of mind but Sam had never said anything.

After Dean had returned from hell, there'd been so much on the brothers' plates that having any kind of Christmas celebration had seemed unimportant and pointless. When Sam had jumped into the pit, Dean had been a wreck the following Christmas which he had spent with Lisa and Ben with too little jolly and way too much eggnog. It hadn't been the same without his little brother. It just hadn't. Dean's eyes studied Sam's face in the dim light in the motel room and wondered if Sam had spent last Christmas with Amelia, and - if that had been the case - had Sam been happy then?

"Sam?" Dean whispered and then raised his voice a notch when Sam didn't react. "Sam?"

"What?" Came the sleepy reply after a few seconds.

"You asleep?" Dean asked.

"Not anymore." Sam sighed and shifted a bit underneath his covers. "What's up?"

"Are you still the boy who hates Christmas?" Dean asked, deciding it was pointless to beat around the bush so he could as well just jump to the case right away.

"What are you talking about?" Sam wanted to know, blinked his eyes open and looked at his older brother like was he wondering if Dean was really awake or not - confusion wrinkling his forehead.

"That Christmas before I went to hell you told me that the Christmases we'd had over the years weren't exactly hallmark memories, remember?" Dean answered.

"Sure." Sam said a little uncertainly. "And?"

" _And.._ I wanna know what were so horrible about the Christmases we had when we were kids." Dean said.

"Dean." Sam sighed before glancing at the clock radio. "It's 2.30."

"Spill it, Sam." Dean said, ignoring his brother's comment about the time. "Don't make me come over there and beat it out of you!"

"Why is it so important to you anyway?" Sam asked.

"It just is." Dean answered. "Come on."

"You really wanna know? Fine then." Sam sighed and turned onto his back to stare up at the ceiling above him. "1991. I found out what Dad really did for a living, and you told me Santa didn't exist."

"Oh come on. That wasn't.." Dean began when Sam cut him off.

"You wanna hear the story or not, Dean?" Sam asked.

Dean only just stopped himself from making another comment and instead waved his hand at Sam to continue.

"1992. Ghost hunt. I fell through the ice and spent a week in bed with pneumonia." Sam said. "1993. The Impala got caught in a snowstorm - we spent Christmas in the car in like minus thirteen degrees while Dad was out finding us help."

Dean remained silent while his younger brother talked. Sam's words formed pictures in his head of the Christmases they used to have, and Dean remembered them all like had they happened yesterday.

"1994. You broke your arm on a Chupacabra hunt, had surgery. I remember a lot of waiting around at the hospital while being scared as hell." Sam said, his eyes remaining locked at the ceiling of the motel room. "1995. Christmas spent in an old cabin in the middle of nowhere with no electricity and a loo out back while Dad was passed out drunk on the couch. 1996.."

"Alright! I get it!" Dean suddenly exclaimed, cutting his brother off. "Our Christmases sucked."

The brothers both fell silent after that and remained quiet for a while. Dean eventually broke the silence as another question popped into his mind – a question he'd asked Sam several years back at that last Christmas before the older brother's deal had been up.

"So, what made you change your mind?" Dean wanted to know.

"About what?" Sam asked.

"Before I went to hell.." Dean explained. ".. we had that last Christmas together, and at first you didn't want to do it and then you changed your mind. Why?"

Sam was silent for a little while and Dean was certain his brother wouldn't answer the question this time either when Sam suddenly started talking.

"1995. Even though Dad was drunk and out cold, and we didn't have any electricity, you were still able to make it bearable. That was the Christmas you decided to teach me how to play poker." Sam said in a soft voice and Dean's lips tucked a bit by the memory. "1994. You let me sit with you in the hospital bed and told me to make you a drawing on your cast. When it was done, you told me how badass it was and that you couldn't wait to show it off to people once we left the hospital. It made me forget how scared I had been and how much I dislike hospitals."

Dean nodded into the darkness, remembering all too clearly how an eleven year old Sam Winchester, eyes wide of fear and emotion, had basically jumped into his big brother's arms when Dean had allowed him to sit with him in the hospital bed. The older brother sometimes forgot how small and scrawny Sam used to be.

"1993. You made sure to keep me warm and entertained while Dad was away - told me all kinds of stories about why the size of Dad's feet had you wondering if he was indeed Big Foot in disguise – and you kept on talking until I eventually fell asleep. And then we had that snowball fight the next day." Sam continued and Dean chuckled a bit in remembrance. "1992. I may have spent a week in bed with pneumonia but you never left my side that Christmas. You took care of me and read ' _A Christmas Carol_ ' for me over and over because you knew how much I loved that book. It made it less boring to be sick."

Sam sighed, hesitated for a moment and then continued the story.

"1991. I was so overwhelmed with everything I learned that particular Christmas and I knew that no Christmas would ever be the same again. You promised me that I would feel better in the morning, went out and stole us a tree and some presents – just to try to make me feel better." Sam said in that soft voice that had always been _Sam_. "So, despite how I felt about it, I still wanted you to have that last Christmas you'd been wanting because.. well, because you would have done the same thing for me, and I owed you that much at least."

Sam stopped talking and the room fell silent again.

"I.. I don't know what to say." Dean then said.

"You don't have to say anything." Sam said before yawning, and Dean watched as Sam once again turned onto his side to face him and closed his eyes. "Good night, Dean."

A warm feeling spread inside the older Winchester brother as he thought about all the old memories Sam had just reminded him about. So what if Sam didn't think too highly about the Christmases they once had and that he would probably always be craving for normalcy, Dean was now convinced that Sam had enjoyed spending the Christmases with his big brother as much as Dean had enjoyed spending them with Sam.

"Good night, Sammy." Dean whispered and let his little brother's peaceful face be the last thing he saw before he drifted off to sleep.

And if there was a gift-wrapped present for Sam on the nightstand when he woke up the next day, then well.. Maybe a Santa did exist for Sam after all – and maybe his name was Dean Winchester.

                                                                                                                                                                                               
  
 **THE END**

 


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